Hatred of One's Self
by Radical.2
Summary: "Don't think about her," he commanded out loud, honestly trying not to, but it was impossible, he couldn't get her out of his head. Would she ever leave? he wondered, starting to pity himself. Here he was, sitting by a lake, while she was in Hogsmeade!


**J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

_I think of you every night and day.  
You took my heart, then you took my pride away.  
__I hate myself for loving you.  
-I Hate Myself For Loving You, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts._**_  
_**

Draco Malfoy sat at the edge of the Black Lake, angrily scooping up pebbles from the ground and throwing them into the water, watching the ripples fade away and come back. It was Saturday morning, he _should _be in Hogsmeade, but he wasn't. He _should _have slept in, as he had hardly slept at all last night, but he hadn't, of course. And then there was the biggest 'should' : He _should _be with Hermione now, but he wasn't. He would never get to hold her and kiss her again, or comfort her when she was sad, or...he mentally slapped himself.

"Don't think about her," he commanded out loud, honestly trying not to, but it was impossible, he couldn't get her out of his head. _Would she ever leave? _he wondered, starting to pity himself. Here he was, sitting by a lake. All his friends were in Hogsmeade and he was here thinking about his ex-girlfriend. His father was in Azkaban, and he was under probation by the Ministry. Any one of those things would bother a guy, but all of them together just crushed you into bits.

He tried to cover his eyes with his hand, as the sun was getting a little too bright. _It must almost be noon_, he thought, wondering if he should go inside so that he wouldn't get sunburnt. Not that it really mattered, there were spells for that. He almost _wanted _himself to be sad, he wanted to be as pitiful as possible, he couldn't explain it. He wanted Hermione to feel guilty, as if it were her fault that his life just sucked right now, even though she was merely the top of the pyramid. And the base, definitely the base. And middle too...okay, she was more than half of it.

He _hated _her, not just in the suspected You-landed-my-father-in-jail-and-defeated-our-side-in-the-war kind of hatred, not even the You're-a-Mudblood-and-punched-me-in-the-face kind that was so young and petty. It was closer to the kind that involved them breaking up, or the I'm-in-love-with-you-but-you-don't-feel-the-same-way-so-I-hate-you kind. He would admit that he still loved her, but he tried so hard, and he hated her so, so much for that. He hated himself for continuing to love her while she was all happy and perfectly fine. At least she wasn't being comforted by the Weasel, not that he cared.

"I don't want to love you anymore!" he whispered, completely submersed in anguish. "I _want _to hate you, Hermione Granger, so, so badly. Why won't you let me?" he asked, wishing she could hear this. Not so she could take him back, because he would never do that. So that she would be miserable, just like he was, all the time. _All the time. _But she wouldn't, she simply refused to be sad. She was always vibrant, always alive, and she always had her own opinion, to the very end. She was strong, of course, and she wasn't easily offended, like he was now.

He had used to be like her, but now he was changed. Perhaps it was from having no father anymore, or the break-up, or the fact that everyone at school hated him, just hated him. He was pitiful, and no one seemed to realize this. Only Hermione had ever understood him, but now she was gone, out of his grasp forever...

Draco felt so _furious_, just angry at her suddenly. He wanted her to hurt, to be tortured by the pain and heartbreak like he was and she wasn't. His eyes tightened and narrowed, darkening at once. He felt his skin be covered by a thin sheen of sweat, and the tears that had been threatening to fall dried up. He felt like his heart was turning into stone, ice, or cold, hard diamond. So empty, so, so cold, even though it must be hotter than an oven out here in the direct sunlight. It was just so miserable...

So miserable that he didn't notice when his shadow detached itself from him, fading into smoke and whirling at light-speed towards Hogwarts Castle, towards Gryffindor tower. As if his love for Hermione had left, and so it had. He wondered if he would ever regret that...


End file.
